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Xindaris
Guest
Original poster
The City at the End of the World.
The last defense. The last civilization. The final bastion of order and light.
The only city.
The last defense. The last civilization. The final bastion of order and light.
The only city.
Founded at least three millennia ago, long enough that nobody is (or at least, should be) old enough to remember, by the enigma of a man that has ruled it since that day. Its eight walls house the last civilization, in an unerring, eternal period of peace, not out of goodwill, but out of fear--or more accurately, the desire to survive.
The city has no name--why should it, being the only one left? All which is outside is black, darkness...them.
The creatures.
The world was almost gone soon after they first appeared, but there was an inexplicable lull in their attacks just at the brink. It was then that Valim appeared to unite the survivors of the many kinds under one banner. The creatures would return, and so they built the great city, larger than they could dream of filling and with the best defenses conceivable.
Today the defenses hold, and almost every inch of livable space is occupied. Within there is still music, writing, science. The study of the great art, magic, has never been stopped. There are dances and parties, shops and homes. There are still the rich and poor--but the gap is usually not so great, and corruption not so common nor tolerated, for they are all living in a last-ditch effort at shelter, and nobody forgets this.
They only appear at night. It is hard to say if the creatures fear light, or simply do not exist where the sun shines, but it matters little. Day is the time to rest, for every night is a battle in a ages-long war, a seige of the city. And those who fight in the war, the most respected of the guilds, the Defenders. Ultimately led by Valim himself, they are trusted with keeping the city safe from threats both within and without, keeping order, and sometimes granting or forbidding permission to the other guilds.
Valim is at once the city's greatest mystery, and its greatest hero. He never sleeps, rarely eats or drinks, recovers from wounds quickly with no scars, and, even stranger than all of these, possesses an ability neither magic nor science has ever been able to emulate: He can move instantly from one point to another within sight with a thought, as easily as breath. Yet more enigmatic is that he seems immortal--despite looking like a somewhat pale-skinned human, he has lived at least three times longer than anyone else conceivably could. Yet for all of the mystery, he is respected as a humble, brave leader, and not even the most rebellious would dare question his dedication to the city and its inhabitants.
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